


When I See You Again

by gothamknights (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 19:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4071781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/gothamknights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Age of Ultron Steve starts to feel the loneliness sink in after a thunderstorm reminds him of his boyish crush on the God of Thunder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I See You Again

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a fic for a friend, and it's my first fic posted on AO3! Go me! Age of Ultron spoilers are minor but there.

Steve sat, fingers tapping against his palm with the rhythm of the rain silhouetting in the moonlight. The nights started becoming longer, more drawn on, and more lonely. He’d started to think about his life. Or… rather, what he missed. Natasha had always given him the notion that he didn’t miss much, a few wars he would called to action to, a few uprisings he would support. That just wasn’t enough for the Man out of Time. There was always going to be a memory of the past he wished he could look back on, a memory he was never able to live. Sure, Nat had the intentions of being lovely to him. She loved Steve in a way she didn’t love anyone else. He was that hope she needed and wanted, the hope she craved when she knew it was time to step away from Clint and let him live. Steve knows it’s because she can sense the loneliness. 

The loneliness was subsided with the team, curbed for just an insignificant amount of time where he didn’t have to focus on himself in the dark with the tv blaring in the living room. Tony’s parties. Sam’s barbecues. Laughter. God, he hadn’t felt the bellow of laughter in his chest for as long as he could remember. Still, regardless of the new memories he was starting to etch, Steve sat lonely in his apartment picking at his skin in the city light thinking about things he wish he could fix, or things he could’ve said to make it that much more bittersweet.

Lightning would slam down to the ground with a mighty thunder, rolling with the rain on its wings like a jockey and his steed. The sound turned the cogs in the Captain’s mind. Thor was one of those who made the loneliness turn its heels and run. He would laugh, making Steve’s stomach flutter with the warmth of butterflies. That was the laughter Steve always craved. Something summery, and calm despite his large nature. Thor was a storm in Steve’s life. He was a storm Steve wanted to brave. There was a closeness he couldn’t explain when he would speak to Thor. It was the gap in culture and living life on the Earth neither of them were truly informed of, trying to find shifts in customs, things they’ve missed but they’ve been informed that they just have to know about it. Countless nights reading books and teaching each other the things they learned. 

Eventually it grew to Thor telling tales of warriors lesser than Steve; frustrated that he wasn’t an Asgardian, that he couldn’t be revered like a true hero with songs and mead. Steve would, in turn, laugh and tell him he never liked the attention. He did it because it was right. 

That was what gave Thor the same butterflies that devoured Steve inside out.

Yet, Thor left to Asgard after Ultron’s defeat, causing Steve to fall back into the loneliness that cradled him like a mother with her newborn. He really thought Thor was different than the rest. He would stay and Steve could confess everything he was feeling even though it was confusing and awful and he felt like he was swallowing glass every time he saw Thor approach with that same goddamn smile. No, that was wishful thinking. He’d become very acquainted with that, lately.

Steve removed himself from the bed to fumble for his jacket in the light of the lightning cracks. The power was out. Been out for a few hours, and the night had settled uncomfortably around the room, ghosting around Steve. He’d found the jacket, exhaling heavily as he slinks his arms into their respectful holes. A walk to clear his head, maybe buy a soda from down the street. Drink it on the bench that just barely escapes the rain. Yeah. That would chip at the loneliness for a few fleeting moments. Enough to get him through the night. That’s what he can tell himself, it seems. Steve takes strides through his bedroom, fingers canvassing against the walls to guide his way to the door. Another crack, bright and loud, lighting the walls up like headlights against concrete. Strong. Bold. Wonder who that reminds me of. He sighs, reminiscent and tired, fingers falling from the wall to rub at his eyes. After collecting himself, Steve pats around for the doorknob, opening the door and descending down the stairs.

His total was three dollars, the exact amount he had on him. The shop owner was more than kind, always saying a hello and goodbye and a thank you that seemed a little too fake, more fearful than anything. Steve took his walk through the park with his hood up and headphones in. He played his music. His music that broadened after the introduction of iTunes and modern hits. A playlist by every Avenger. All their personalities meshed into a playlist. It almost made him smile. He trudged his way through the puddles, reaching into his bag to pop open his Coke. The walk home was thunderous and cold; his skin shivering at the touch of his wet shirt wrapping tightly around him. Steve approached his door, fumbling in his pockets for his keys as another crack of lightning struck the ground. He paid no mind. All just weather, with no warning.

“You will catch a cold if you stay out here, will you not? Or has your serum prevented that?” A voice, warm in the cold, bright in the night. Steve stopped his actions, exhaling to look over his shoulder. There they were again. The butterflies, fluttering so violently it felt as if they ripped through his skin His mouth agape, he chuckled.

“The serum prevents that. Thought I told you. Or do Gods just have a bad memory?” Steve turns, chuckling and letting his hands fall to the side, spilling the drink the ground. He was preoccupied with something a little more important.  
“Gods have an impeccable memory. Thought I told you.” Another round of laughter, Thor stepping from the rain into the quietness under the balcony. Steve shook his head, looking to the ground and realizing that he spilt his soda on his shoes, the quick reflex to jerk his hand back up and swear underneath his breath about how fucking careless he could be sometimes. It was the nerves and the sudden drop-in, the flush in his cheeks from the cold and his foolish boyhood crush that he stopped trying to dismiss. Everything in the moment seemed misplaced, yet perfect. Jesus… it felt perfect. Steve dragged his eyes up to the Asgardian, dropping the can to the ground and wrapping his arms around the toned grace of Thor’s body.

He was met with the same desire, Thor digging his face in Steve’s hair while his arms rest against Steve’s shoulders. Steve smelled of rain and sweat, the softness of his personality taking form against Thor, and Thor could only be pleased. They embraced each other, weary and wet under the Midnight spell, Steve’s loneliness washing away with the rain into the storm drain. It was minutes, felt like hours, until someone said something. Thor’s fingers lost in the crop of Steve’s hair, smile hidden but resting against his face like seeing an old lover again.  
“I didn’t feel my departure was fair. I had things I wanted to tell you, stories to gloat over.” His voice rumbles with the rain, revels in the stars. A part of him wants to laugh, but he feels the guilt set in, gnawing at his heart.  
“Nothing’s fair, Thor. We question what we’re given, but sometimes we have to accept the good things that comes out of it.” Steve interjects.  
“Another of the Captain’s endearing speeches, I suppose?”  
“No. Just an admission of something I couldn’t bring myself to say.” Steve steps away, fingers tracing along the bumps and scars of Thor’s arms until they find themselves nestled against Thor’s fingers. Steve weaves his fingers between the other’s, blinking away the raindrops that have fallen onto his eyelashes. If only actions were louder than words at this point, “Someone once told me that we didn’t need perfect soldiers. We needed good men.” A pause, “And you’re the greatest they come, Thor. I admire you. Your strength, nobility, deter--”

Interrupted, the super soldier melts into the Asgardian. Thor pressed his lips into Steve’s, fingers moving from holding the other’s to wrap perfectly around the sculpt of Steve’s jaw. He memorized every dent. Every little dip in Steve’s skin as he connected their lips with passion and a desire that raged so strong, Thor could no longer fight it. Steve presses his body into Thor’s in an attempt to close the distance between them in anyway. He wanted to crush the loneliness with the sparks their skin would cause, Thor’s body so electric he could give Steve a charge that could kill him. Steve didn’t need answers, he needed contact. Thor did what he had to do for himself, but Steve needed this. God, he needed him to know what he felt. What he did to him. 

Thor releases his grip on Steve, lips disconnecting while Steve continued to chase after them with a boyish desire. He places his forehead against the soldier’s, counting seconds until he can catch his breath.

A crack against the sky, loud and bold, mighty like the man with softness spilling from his fingertips, “You count me a great man, Steve, but I count you a worthy one.”


End file.
